


(Don't You) Close Your Eyes

by dressedupasmyself



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Mooncalf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dressedupasmyself/pseuds/dressedupasmyself
Summary: “Were you asleep?” Luna asked.Hermione sat up and rubbed tiredly at her eyes. “I’m awake now. Did you need anything?”Luna watched her with an unsettling quietness. Hermione thought that it would have bothered her to no end only a few months ago. Now, she simply watched back.“There’s a mooncalf in the garden.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Luna Lovegood
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11
Collections: Books of Yule





	(Don't You) Close Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatScottishShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatScottishShipper/gifts).



> Title taken from the song "Benediction" by Luke Sital-Singh.

Hermione woke up to a prickly feeling on the back of her neck.

Months on the run had taught her better than to make any sudden movements that could draw attention to herself, so she kept her breathing carefully steady as she adjusted to consciousness.

She was in a soft bed. It smelled like lavender and vanilla and the mint body wash Luna kept in her shower. She was safe.

Her eyes blinked open to reveal the orange-tinted darkness of the guest bedroom. A thin trickle of moonlight was visible through the smallest of gaps between the curtains. It illuminated a line of dust motes along the windowsill, reminding Hermione of specks of glitter. Knowing Luna, glitter wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility.

Hermione felt her shoulders relax. She was safe. There was no threat. She turned over onto her other side and nearly rolled right back over at the unexpected sight of a thin figure hovering in the doorway.

“Were you asleep?” Luna asked.

Hermione sat up and rubbed tiredly at her eyes. “I’m awake now. Did you need anything?”

Luna watched her with an unsettling quietness. Hermione thought that it would have bothered her to no end only a few months ago. Now, she simply watched back.

“There’s a mooncalf in the garden.”

Hermione yawned. “Okay. They’re not dangerous.”

“No,” Luna agreed. “They’re beautiful.”

“Why did you wake me up, Luna?”

Luna shifted her weight onto her other foot. “Do you want to come see it with me?”

If there was one thing Hermione had never thought she would accomplish, it was understanding Luna Lovegood. At school, Hermione had had little patience for her. It wasn’t because she was strange. Hermione herself could hardly be considered normal. What irked Hermione was the callous disregard Luna showed towards reality and the limits it imposed.

When Hermione first discovered her magic, she was forced to accept that the reality she had always known was a lie. Suddenly, she could make a pig fly with the flick of her wand. She could transfigure an unwanted object into something utterly beautiful or travel thousands of miles with a little concentration and a quick turn.

Still, there were limitations. It was important to Hermione that she understood the limits of her newfound world, because without knowing the rules, it was so much harder to break them without being caught. Hermione didn’t know much, but she knew she couldn’t get caught. Magic had flipped everything she thought she knew upside down, but it was also the best thing that had ever happened to her. She wouldn’t allow anything to take it away from her, especially not something as easily avoidable as her stepping over a boundary that was known to everyone but her.

Then Luna came tumbling headfirst into her path with a magazine filled with nonsense and a casual, careless disregard for reality and logic alike, and Hermione had no idea what to make of it.

Hermione used to be jealous of Ravenclaws. On days when she had to force Harry and Ron out of their constant state of unproductive laziness, she watched the groups of Ravenclaws huddled around a single book with wonder in their eyes and thought that she would give up quite a lot to have friends who shared in her fascination of the world.

But she met Luna and her views changed. Suddenly she noticed that the Ravenclaws weren’t bonding over a shared interest in the logistical manifestation of transfigurative magic, but rather the obscure ramblings of a mad alchemist hellbent on challenging every limit that had ever existed. It became clear that, despite every initial instinct telling Hermione that the Sorting Hat had gotten it wrong, the Hat had been unequivocally correct in its judgement.

Then the war happened, and Hermione’s greatest fear came to be. Suddenly, Voldemort and his followers were ripping her world out from under her and she had to fight with her life to keep it from slipping away. She clawed and cried and clung to reality until she had no choice but to rip it apart in order to save it. Only then, with Harry dead at Hagrid’s feet and Nagini in pieces, could she begin to put it back together.

Harry came back and Voldemort died, and Ron held her tight enough that she didn’t notice the pieces of herself that were still a little loose. Until one day, when he let go, and she realised that she could barely stand on her own two feet.

Luna had found her wandering in the ruins that had once been Diagon Alley and brought her home. Hermione found that it was a lot easier to accept her new scattered understanding of the world with Luna around to remind her that the world had always been scattered, Hermione had just refused to entertain the thought. 

“Okay.” Hermione fumbled under her pillow for her wand. She slid her feet into a pair of slippers and made her way to where Luna was already leaning against the door to the back garden. “Are we going outside?”

Luna smiled. “Will you cast a warming charm? I left my wand somewhere.”

Hermione did so wordlessly, and Luna opened the door.

It was snowing lightly. Luna ignored the tiny flecks that melted into her skin and sat down on the steps that would lead them down to the garden. From here, they had a wonderful view over the entire slanted expanse of grass that formed part of Luna’s property.

The light of the full moon reflected off the snow-covered ground. It lit up the world in the same washed out way of the candles that used to line the hallways of Hogwarts. It was a soothing imitation of brightness that appealed to Hermione’s sleepy eyes.

“Can you see it?” Luna asked.

Hermione had to blink twice before her eyes would focus on the specifics of the scenery in front of her. The mooncalf was bigger than she’d expected. It was on its back, rolling around like it was the happiest creature alive.

“I want to be that happy,” Hermione said.

“You can,” Luna assured her. “If you thought a little less about how to be happy and instead spent your energy on appreciating the world around you, you would be just as happy as that calf.”

Luna had always been more honest than Hermione had ever been entirely comfortable with. Hermione thought that it might be exactly what she needed.

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

Luna watched the mooncalf quietly for so long that Hermione had almost forgotten that she ever spoke.

“It’s nice to have a friend,” Luna said. “Especially on Christmas day.”

Something heavy settled around her heart at the reminder. It was the first Christmas after Voldemort’s death and everything was different. Usually she would be with her parents or with Ron and Harry, opening presents and drinking hot chocolate. She might see her friends later, but her parents were still in Australia with no idea that they had once had a daughter. It was a constant ache at the bottom of her ribs that she could do nothing about, except try to soothe it with the assurance that she had kept them safe.

She sat next to Luna in a peaceful quiet until the first rays of sunlight started to creep its way onto the horizon. It started small, barely noticeable. It grew slowly, like it had to work hard to swallow the darkness of the world around it. Hermione thought that it had to be an extremely unrewarding job, for the sun to come up with such painstaking effort and precision every single day without anyone appreciating it.

But she was appreciating it. The mooncalf left and Luna went inside to make tea. Hermione stayed and watched, and the sun seemed to glimmer extra bright in her direction.

She took the cup of tea from Luna’s outstretched hand. It warmed her fingers in a way that heating charms could never quite manage.

“Merry Christmas, Luna.”


End file.
